


Sand in her Spellbook

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Mermaids, Witches, mentioned malec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clary's a witch, Izzy's a mermaid, and in this universe she faints after seeing Isabelle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sand in her Spellbook

There's water lapping at Clary's toes, sun trickling down her back. It slowly burns away the wet patches of skin above her ankles, leaving dry sand and salt behind. Clary draws on the elements, draws in the elements, writes her spells in the sand. 

She wishes for the transformative, but she only carries the sight. She knows her mother will be taken soon, a new journey to begin beneath the ocean- but she knows not how to stop or change it. Nor if it's even possible to do so; her mother's convinced there's nothing to be done. (Clary still sees her become more ready, always with a weapon in hand, thinking loudly.)

Seagulls roam about overhead, only bring her dirty tidings on their wings. Not even the fun kind of dirty, Maureen would joke were she not away at band camp. Their messages come in broken pieces, like half a ransom note with twice the fear but betraying only half the caution. 

She can't walk on water, not yet, but it matters not. Soon, soon she will learn how to glide beneath the waters. Her teacher remains hidden from her sight, and Clary prowls the beach searching. All she knows is the teacher has at least one brother. Her magic touches everything: glancing along each grain of sand, gliding into every shell, and chasing any speck of warmth. She seeks in vain, an unbecoming fate of a seer- maps out her beach over and over, by every sense she has. She slips her fingers into the sand, loose above and packed smooth below. Sand burrows under every fingernail, but still, her vision refuses to expand. There is only her, laughing and swimming fast underwater, talking to another. 

It's not until many tides have changed that Clary finds her teacher. Her mother is still safe, and Clary's begun to doubt that vision- perhaps it was only a vivid nightmare- it wouldn't be the first. It's when the earth is cooling, and the waters are chilled that Clary finds the mermaid. She has long black hair, a deep crimson tail, tan skin and soft brown eyes- at first Clary thinks she's stumbled upon a goddess of old lore. 

But the mermaid doesn't run or hide or attack or make demands, she smiles and says hello. Voice drifting pleasantly over the waves. 

Clary goes to her like one bewitched- of a single mind, salt water soaking through her clothes quick, cold seeping into her bones. 

“Hi.”

And then everything goes black. 

.

Clary wakes up in shades of blue and green, realizes she's underwater late, is sure her lungs will fill up with water any moment now. She doesn't recognize this part of the ocean, not even her magic finds a familiar impression. The mermaid is smiling out of the corner of her eye, swimming closer now that she's awake, and Clary was wrong, completely, horribly wrong- she's a goddess here for a sacrifice and-

“You have salt in your bones.”

Anxiety takes a back seat to confusion, and without thinking, Clary opens her mouth, “ _What_?” 

“I'm Isabelle, and you witch, the water won't reject you. Why do you live on land? Most of your kind lives with us beneath the waves.” 

“Clary,” she says, still weirded out that water isn't rushing into her mouth. It reminds her of swimming in a pool once when she was little, a life guard diving in to save her even though she was fine. “How does- this doesn't make any sense. I've never heard of this magic and it doesn't- it doesn't _fit_ with magical laws.” 

Isabelle's smile is bright and beautiful, “I can explain the science of it, it's actually quite fascinating. So you know the three ways to produce a spell-”

Isabelle's words fade to a cheerful blur as a new vision slams into her: it's her mother's kidnapping again. Only this time instead of being magically handcuffed and dragged away, she swallows a potion and faints. 

“-Clary? Talk to me.” 

“They have my mother, oh god, I need to go home now,” Clary says, swimming up to the surface. 

Izzy grabs her wrist, “Wait! There could be a trap there.”

Clary bites her lip, “I know, but I'll get better visions if I go now and it might be the only way to find her.” 

“Fine,” she says, “at least let me swim with you back. It'll be quicker and you won't end up as alligator soup.” 

When Isabelle realizes how like a mundane Clary swims, she stops her, saying it'll take days to return at this rate. Clary's _pretty_ sure it's an exaggeration, but it might not be, Izzy could have swam her unconscious body back further than she thought. Izzy turns out not to be the most patient of teachers, but she's really good. Vision and reality mesh when Clary asks, “Have you done this before?” 

And Clary hears the answer both ways, feels Izzy's smile and warmth when she says, “I taught my younger brother Max how to speed swim.” 

It takes longer than it should- Izzy blames Clary's lack of tail, and Clary silently blames Izzy's distracting fingertips flitting about her hips and back- but eventually Clary has it. She can glide beneath the waters now, bits of magic propelling her limbs fast enough to only be a few strokes behind Izzy. 

Clary brushes against some coral by mistake, and as her blood enters the salt water, another vision emerges. Everything is burning, her childhood home, any trace of her mother, any chance of finding her again- it's all gone in a thick purple smoke. 

Clary wails, can feel the water rushing to her fingertips. She could destroy everything, she could leave destruction in her wake until she found the kidnappers. She could dry out the ocean and flood the land. She could-

“Easy there Clary,” Izzy says, “what happened?” 

Her voice grounds her, she doesn't want to hurt Isabelle, and she tightly bottles up her magic inside, the waters returning to normal. 

“It isn't a trap,” Clary says flatly. “My mother sabotaged the house, I have no reliable way of tracking her. I can't believe, no, _why_ wouldn't she let me help her? She knew this would happen.” 

“Maybe she didn't want you to get hurt,” Izzy says with a soft smile. “Come back with me, my brother's dating a pretty strong warlock who might be able to help.” 

Clary sighs, “Unless he's dating like Merlin or Magnus Bane, I don't think-”

Isabelle's smile grows, and Clary's jaw drops, the first bit of hope since the awful visions filling up her chest. 

“No way. Really?”

“Yup, we should bring a small bribe, but Magnus is a good person beneath all his bravado,” Izzy says. 

“Anything,” Clary quickly answers.

“No need for such extremes, a gift from dry land will do- he doesn't leave the water often besides breaking surface. I don't think he has any magnetic nail polish yet,” Izzy muses. 

Clary's eyebrows jump up, “That's it?” 

Izzy laughs, “Well if you were going to him alone you'd probably need some diamonds too, but he's family. And you're underestimating how much he likes to lounge on rocks in the middle of the sea, painting his nails and chatting with the birds.” 

“Okay,” Clary says, deciding then that she'll end up buying at least two dozen polishes to be safe. She finds Izzy's hand in the water, a little cooler than her own. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, there's no need for that already. We haven't even gotten you to shore and back safely yet,” Izzy says. 

“I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't fainted all over you.” Clary says, looking down to admit, “It probably wouldn't have been very nice or good to the shoreline.” 

Izzy squeezes her hand, and Clary shakes her head to rid it of untaken mistakes, before continuing in a more playful tone. “If you won't accept my thanks, would you accept nail polish?” 

Isabelle laughs, holding up her free hand to show Clary, “Paint on scales doesn't work well. But I suppose I could accept a more traditional payment of a kiss.” 

Clary blushes, knew their faces had gotten close as they spoke, but now Isabelle seems super close. The current closes the remaining distance for her, their lips meeting softly. Izzy tastes like the ocean's magic, all salt and cool pressure. Clary pulls away before she can get swept up into Isabelle for hours, days even.

“We should really go to the shore,” Clary says, not realizing how brusque it sounds until it's out in open water. 

“Of course,” Isabelle says shortly, hand loosening in hers. 

“And I'll owe you countless more kisses after the journey, and we haven't even added your swimming lessons,” Clary says mock seriously. 

“Of course,” Izzy echoes, her voice lighter and a smile on her lips. “You know us mermaids, we're very exacting when it comes to payment.” 

Clary giggles, and they start swimming to shore.


End file.
